My dad is a pretty normal guy. He collects guns and swords, he designs and manufactures his own flea circuses, and he's always dressing up as a wizard and doing magic tricks for people. Y'know, just normal "Dad" stuff. We were recently discussing the strengths and weaknesses of Beatles Rock Band and our conversation turned to The Rolling Stones, as Beatles conversations often do. During this conversation, my dad told me about an incident that occured in the summer of 1968, when he embarked on a summer trip and inadvertently became the most badass disc jockey the state of Florida had ever seen.
Florida, as you may know, is a pretty bass-ackwards state. If states were Breakfast Club characters, Florida would be Allie Sheedy, but retarded, and the movie would just be the other characters trying to overcome stereotypes and teen angst while Florida ran around the library clapping, and then trying to cover its own ears before the sound got to them. There's a lot of weird stuff going on in Florida right now, so you can imagine how bizarre and other-worldly it was in 1968. My dad's not from Florida. He had never been to Florida before 1968, and he's never been back since. That year, he went on a trip with some of his cousins to Alabama, and they decided to take a detour to Florida to visit friends while they were in the region. Somehow, my teenage dad drifted right into the middle of the really, really stupid part of the sunshine state.
It was late in the afternoon, and my dad was hanging out in a large park with about two or three hundred other Floridian teenagers (it was apparently a very large park). The park was situated at the bottom of a little valley that was surrounded by hills on all sides, like a huge punch bowl of sweaty, angsty backwoods teenagers just standing in the middle of Florida and waiting for something interesting to happen. Then something did happen: my dad had to take a shit.
The restroom that catered to the entire park was located at the top of one of the surrounding hills, so my dad, still pinching a vicious loaf, hiked up and took care of business. Luckily, the bathroom was clean and well-stocked, and he finished the task without any problems. On his way out, he noticed a jukebox positioned next to the building that housed the restrooms. This was 1968, so jukeboxes were everywhere, apparently. he quickly traced the path of the wires jutting out of the jukebox's backside and noted that it was connected to some enormous speakers that shot out over the entire valley, meaning that this jukebox was designed to entertain the whole park area. In an attempt to liven up the muggy, miserable Florida summer evening, he decided to insert a coin and select a song. That song was The Rolling Stones' Jumpin' Jack Flash.
As my dad recalls, Jumpin' Jack Flash had come out earlier that summer and it was currently the hottest song on the radio in his hometown of Phoenix, Arizona, which means that it was probably pretty popular elsewhere in the country as well, since Phoenix ranks just slightly above Boise, Idaho on the "Where Cool Things Hang Out" scale. Being that it was a popular and incredibly awesome song (some might even say it was a gas, gas, gas), my dad figured that it would be a good choice for some entertaining park music. He made the selection in the jukebox, and the entire park was drowned with the trademark drum beat and rippin' guitar riff of Jumpin' Jack Flash. After perusing the jukebox's library briefly, he turned to begin the descent back into the smoldering cauldren of angst below, but to his surprise every single person in the park was standing completely frozen, wide-eyed, and staring directly at my dad like (as he put it), "that scene in Apocalypto when they see the solar eclipse and get all astonished by it."
At first he was frightened. He thought he'd done something wrong. Maybe there was some sort of strict anti-Stones policy in the shitty parts of Florida that he didn't know about, or maybe this was a cursed jukebox or something. Slowly, almost catatonically, the hundreds of kids in the park below began plodding toward him, like some super-hip deleted scene from Dawn of the Dead, with Jumpin' Jack Flash blasting over everything as the nightmare scenario unfolded. As the first of the zombie kids got to my dad, still looking bewildered and mesmerized, he said something like, "what...is...this?" My dad was completely dumbfounded and said something like, "What the hell are you talking about? It's Jumpin' Jack Flash! It's The Rolling Stones! Do you live under a rock or something?" No, the kid didn't live under a rock. It was worse than that: he lived in Florida.
When the crowd finally got over the astonishment of Jumpin' Jack Flash, they began requesting that my dad play the song over and over and over again. They would give him their change to put into the jukebox. For some reason, they felt like they couldn't operate it themselves. Maybe they just didn't know how to operate a jukebox. No one can say for sure, but for a few hours on that sweaty, smelly summer afternoon somewhere in the asscrack of Florida, my dad became the most sought-after disc jockey in the entire state. People were lining up down the hill just to have him put their coins into a jukebox and select Jumpin' Jack Flash on their behalf. Sure, it's a backwards way to be a disc jockey, but it was in Florida where everything's already backwards, so it probably seemed completely normal to them.
Eventually, my dad left the park, and a few days later when he was driving out of town he passed the park again. The jukebox was surrounded by a crowd of kids who had finally learned how to operate it themselves, and they were playing Jumpin' Jack Flash on a constant loop, while other kids danced the miserable day away in the park below. People were referring to my dad as "Jumpin' Jack", and legend has it that the people who lived near the park were complaining for the next couple of weeks or so, begging the kids to just play another song, because they were so sick of hearing Jumpin' Jack Flash. And it all happened because my dad, a normal teenager with a decent taste in popular music, had to take a shit in Florida in 1968.
Yarp is completely correct in saying the Beatles suck, in fact they suck major gay cock. Like all northern English bands they kick out a half decent first album then spend the next 20 years kicking the same shit over and over again. Oasis, Kesabien, Ian Brown, all total shite and none worth the track suits there wearing.
Yeah not like American bands who can't sing or write for shit and have to have their songs,lyrics and faces spruced up to even kick out anything remotely worth listening too,oh wait like your opinion it's not worth listening too.
i will agree with Oasis being shit though those fuckers aren't worth herpes.
I had to check to make sure I hadn't accidentally hit Cosmo's or Oprah's or Marie Claire's site. What the fuck was this piece of shit and why the fuck did I read the entire thing? That was worse than The Blair Witch Project: kept waiting for it to get good and it sucked the whole way through.
Dad never told you this part, but that was the park where all the gay guys hung out. They were all lined up giving him change for blowjobs. sorry to break it to you.
Remember when all of the people that talk shit on the Stones and the Beatles made all that groundbreaking, generation transcending music?? Because I don't. And if you are a British kids saying all of this, come on. Seriously those two bands are your biggest export, without them, America forgets you exist.
Was this supposed to be funny or just one long insult about Florida with no punchline? There are no Valleys or hills in Florida, so this has to be bullshit! Most of Florida is right at Sea Level, so if you want to get down into a Valley you would be under the water.
This was the epitome of your dad's life? No grungy war stories? No exploits with beautiful women? Wow, your dad was a real loser...and so are you for writing this useless story. And if your dad was about twenty in 1968 then that makes you about thirty years old. Time to get a real job my friend. HolyTaco.com is really begining to suck.
(28 Comments)
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October 7th, 2009 at 05:17 pm
First.
Rolling Stones and the Beatles both suck.
October 8th, 2009 at 02:33 am
First off, anyone saying the beatles suck doesn't have an opinion that matters. Flat out.
Secondly on, where can I get that picture of the giant dook?
October 8th, 2009 at 03:13 am
i will sell you a copy of that doo doo pic for $50
October 8th, 2009 at 04:34 am
Yarp is completely correct in saying the Beatles suck, in fact they suck major gay cock. Like all northern English bands they kick out a half decent first album then spend the next 20 years kicking the same shit over and over again. Oasis, Kesabien, Ian Brown, all total shite and none worth the track suits there wearing.
October 9th, 2009 at 05:39 am
Yeah not like American bands who can't sing or write for shit and have to have their songs,lyrics and faces spruced up to even kick out anything remotely worth listening too,oh wait like your opinion it's not worth listening too.
i will agree with Oasis being shit though those fuckers aren't worth herpes.
October 7th, 2009 at 05:30 pm
If my screen name we're Yarp, I'd be a little more cautious before I called First and declared that anything sucks...I'm just sayin'....
October 7th, 2009 at 06:20 pm
I was there and we still worship that dude.
October 7th, 2009 at 06:48 pm
Why did I just read this?
October 7th, 2009 at 06:50 pm
TL:DR
October 7th, 2009 at 07:03 pm
This article is not only a bunch of bull shit, but it sucks as well.
October 7th, 2009 at 07:05 pm
I had to check to make sure I hadn't accidentally hit Cosmo's or Oprah's or Marie Claire's site. What the fuck was this piece of shit and why the fuck did I read the entire thing? That was worse than The Blair Witch Project: kept waiting for it to get good and it sucked the whole way through.
October 7th, 2009 at 08:46 pm
...and that's how I was conceived
October 7th, 2009 at 08:57 pm
That jutebox changed my life that day...(sniff,sniff)
October 7th, 2009 at 10:00 pm
Dad never told you this part, but that was the park where all the gay guys hung out. They were all lined up giving him change for blowjobs. sorry to break it to you.
October 7th, 2009 at 10:58 pm
There was a dad? I thought this article was about Florida.
October 7th, 2009 at 10:58 pm
Actually an interesting read. I'm all for stories regarding classic rock and backwoods retards.
October 8th, 2009 at 04:14 am
..and parks where throngs of gays hang out looking to get head from guys from pheonix for pocket change.
October 8th, 2009 at 05:17 am
Remember when all of the people that talk shit on the Stones and the Beatles made all that groundbreaking, generation transcending music?? Because I don't. And if you are a British kids saying all of this, come on. Seriously those two bands are your biggest export, without them, America forgets you exist.
October 9th, 2009 at 05:41 am
and America's biggest exploit,Michael Jackson.....
October 8th, 2009 at 05:24 am
Was this supposed to be funny or just one long insult about Florida with no punchline? There are no Valleys or hills in Florida, so this has to be bullshit! Most of Florida is right at Sea Level, so if you want to get down into a Valley you would be under the water.
October 8th, 2009 at 03:23 pm
possible to be below sea level and not be underwater jackass
October 8th, 2009 at 07:27 pm
see city of New Orleans, genius.
October 8th, 2009 at 07:22 am
That was a clever story. How does that make you feel? Being clever and all. Go F your mother backwards.
Signed, Florida.
October 8th, 2009 at 08:36 am
this story is lame as the comments.
October 8th, 2009 at 12:55 pm
creative name, cockboy...........
October 8th, 2009 at 02:09 pm
I still remember that day as if were yesterday. ahhhhh, the memories. I was king for a day, that ended Bukake.
October 9th, 2009 at 10:29 am
This was the epitome of your dad's life? No grungy war stories? No exploits with beautiful women? Wow, your dad was a real loser...and so are you for writing this useless story. And if your dad was about twenty in 1968 then that makes you about thirty years old. Time to get a real job my friend. HolyTaco.com is really begining to suck.
October 10th, 2009 at 06:49 am
yarp, ur a tasteless wank bucket.
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